A great bald man (Sir Grant Morrison) described the false ego as a scaffolding around the structure of the true ego. As the fragile skeleton of our ego rises in childhood, the false ego is built up as a support system. We learn to like this and hate that. We learn to "express ourselves" and "be an individual". We learn to believe in Jesus instead of the Batman.

All of these lessons give us a stable sense of of ego continuity which is very useful for the budding human being. We use it to compartmentalize our experiences, allowing us to function and live in the world. But at a certain point (usually in early adulthood), they become a hindrance, keeping us trapped in an unforgiving world-view. Unfortunately, we've missed the skyscraper and placed all of our attention on the guys installing the window panes.

That's why it's so embarrassing to find out that your homeboy from high school is still listening to Marilyn Manson and wearing eyeliner. He's still stuck in the reality tunnel he had when he was 15, and never figured out that there's an infinite number of different viewpoints out there.

My generation only knew about the dark and gritty Batman of the 80s and 90s. We were told that he was probably a psychopath and most definitely a fascist. But what about the pop art Batman of the 60s? He would go out in the daylight and dance the Batusi . In the 50s, every issue had him in an alternate reality, or on a distant planet fighting aliens. And, yes, there's even a gay Batman that can be found with very little imagination on the part of the reader.

I would not be the first to posit that all of these Batmen are equally valid. There is no "real" or central Batman, just the current canonical model. The different versions are like a rotating lens, focusing on different aspects and never containing the whole. In this way, the Batman can be in any place or situation and still be the Batman. Dig?

Now take a look at your "self". You've spent years defining it. You wear certain clothes, listen to certain music, like certain people. It's just a mask. Right now, you may be the happy-go-lucky 50s model, but does that mean you can't be the grim and gritty 90s model? Just think of all the experience you're losing.

Here's a project: Pick something you hate. When I did this years ago, I chose rap music. Spend some time getting to know it, and then trick yourself into liking it. Start telling people you meet how much you love it. Next thing you know, you're swangin and bangin to the baddest Bun B mixtape on the block, and you won't know why you ever said you hated it in the first place.

This isn't an exercise to open your mind, but to see how easy it is to create the artificial boundaries of the egoplex. The real idea is to recognize that the self is a construct. You invented the rules of the game years ago, and the only one who can break those rules is you.

The Batman went to Nanda Parbat to experience death in the Thogal ritual. All I have to do is try the Dougie in public.